


Roadkill

by TamarElmensdorp



Category: Belldom - Fandom, Muse (Band)
Genre: Animal Death, First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:28:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25187938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TamarElmensdorp/pseuds/TamarElmensdorp
Summary: One dark night, two things happen. One bad thing, one good thing.
Relationships: Matt Bellamy/Dom Howard
Comments: 6
Kudos: 8





	Roadkill

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!” Trying to keep your car from swerving into the trees next to the road, you pull hard on the steering wheel. Your heart is pounding like a drummer on speed. Just before hitting the trees, you manage to stop the car. You lean over the steering wheel, trying to catch your breath. 

“What the fuck was that,” you mutter under your breath. You sit up and look around. The road is completely deserted. And it’s dead quiet outside. Why is it so silent, so close to town? Maybe it’s just your imagination. You’ve seen too many horror films where scary things happen on abandoned roads. With the realisation, reality comes rushing back in. In the distance you see the shimmering of lights: the first houses of town. You’re almost home. Sound has come back too: the sound of cars driving on the highway nearby, the trees rustling in the wind.

Slowly you get out of the car to find out what exactly happened. If this was a film, it would have been a person, one that got up from the dead, or a ghost that would haunt you until you died a horrible death. But it isn’t a film. You take a deep breath and carefully walk around the car. There, by the side of the road, partly wrapped around the tree that you so skillfully missed with your car, it lies: a fawn. It’s not moving.

Trembling, you kneel down beside it. You already expect the worst, but you’re praying for something better. You stretch out your hand to the small animal, not really ready to know. The fawn is still warm, but it doesn’t seem to be breathing anymore. You carefully prod it a little, and then you know. Its neck is broken. It’s dead. You killed it. You killed the cute little fawn. You break down crying.

“Dom, Dom, I killed her,” you snivel. “I killed her!” “Who, Matt? You killed who?” concern thick on his voice. “I killed her, I just killed her,” is all you can utter. “Matt, slow down, listen to me. Tell me where you are. I’m coming. Don’t move. It’ll be alright.” Dom is telling you, but you heard the ‘I hope’ he quietly mutters after that. But of course it won’t be alright. She’s dead isn’t she? And there’s just no way around that. You can’t miracuously make her not be dead again, now can you!

Dom must be some kind of super human, for he manages to calm you down enough for you to be able to tell him where you are. Still trembling, you stay seated next to the dead fawn. Tears are streaming down your face while you gently stroke it. “I’m sorry, dear, I’m so sorry,” you keep telling her. “What will your mama feel? She must be worried sick with you not by her side.”

After what feels like a lifetime, but can’t have been more than fifteen minutes, a car approaches. It parks on the opposite side of the road. After having looked both sides, Dom rushes over to your side of the road. He kneels down next to you. When he sees the dead animal, he lets out a relieved sigh.

“Why do you sound so relieved, Dom? Did you think I killed a person? And why would killing an animal be any less bad?” You break down in tears again. Dom shuffles closer to you and wraps his arms around you tightly. “Of course this is sad too, Matt,” he whispers in your hair. “But you know that killing a person is quite something else than accidentally hitting a fawn and killing it.”

He’s softly rocking you, while stroking your arm up and down. “It’s okay, Matt, it’s all okay,” he keeps whispering to you. You bury your face into his chest, muttering about the dead baby and her poor mama. You grab one of Dom’s arms by the biceps and squeeze tightly. The flesh doesn’t budge an inch. When did his arms become so muscled? You push your nose further into his chest. His pecs are firm too.

You realise that those are weird things to think about when you just killed someone, but you can’t help but wonder what his abs will feel like. Warely, you let go of his arm and lower your hand to his belly, not daring to touch it, just hovering above it. Very slowly, you place your hand on his belly. Your hand is trembling again, and your breathing is going faster again too. These are not ‘I just killed a deer’ nerves. These are different nerves. These are ‘I’m going to touch my best friend in a feeling him up kind of way’ nerves.

Gently, you push your hand into his belly. You feel his muscles tightening under your touch. You push a little harder. His breath hitches. His chest is rising and falling a bit quicker than it did before. You hold your breath to listen more closely. His breathing is speeding up, as is his heartbeat. You don’t dare to lift your face from his chest, but your hand is, almost imperceptibly, making the smallest of movements over his abs. Stroking. Softly pushing your fingers deeper in.

“M-Matt,” he stutters. He lifts up your face by your chin until he looks you into your eyes. It seems as if neither of you dares to move a muscle, to breath. Staring into his eyes, you swallow. You grab your lower lip between your teeth. You wet your lips. Apparently Dom caught your movement in his peripheral vision, for his eyes lower towards your lips.

With his gaze no longer holding you prisoner, you lower your eyes to his lips as well. They look full and soft, much different from yours which are thin and slightly chapped. They look very kissable. You tilt your head slightly. Wet your lips again. Swallow. Inch closer. Let your eyes fall closed. Inch even closer. Neither of you is breathing. Closer still. With the softest of touches, your lips reach his. Both of you release the air you were holding inside. Your breath mingles with his, becomes one breath.

You open your eyes. Dom has closed his. You push your lips against his harder. You open up your lips to grab his lower lip between yours. You want to keep on looking at him, but somehow your eyes fall closed again. A soft moan escapes his lips, or maybe yours, you can’t tell, and to be honest, you don’t really care. You shift in his embrace. Straddle his lap. Wrap your arms around his neck. Bury your fingers in his hair. Your kisses are open mouthed now. Tongue dancing with tongue.

You want to be closer. Closer still. Become one with him. Lose yourself in him. Dom lets out a grunt, and you suddenly realise that you’re not in the most comfortable of positions. Dom must be hurting sitting on his knees with you on top of him. You try to get up without letting go of his mouth on yours. You never want to let go of him again. You almost succeed, but then Dom lets go.

“Let’s go to your place,” he softly whispers.

**Author's Note:**

> Do any of you still remember me? I haven’t written in such an awful long time. So I just grabbed my Writer’s Block block book and opened it on the page that said Roadkill. It appeared to have been enough of an inspiration to result in a story.


End file.
